


Honey Bear's Peaches

by honeyedapricotsunshine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 09:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyedapricotsunshine/pseuds/honeyedapricotsunshine
Summary: Prompt #27In which Kyungsoo accidentally becomes a fansite master for the handsome middle prince, Kim Jongin.





	Honey Bear's Peaches

It’s not the first time Kyungsoo’s having dinner at Prince Jongin’s penthouse, but this time, for some reason, feels different. It’s not nervousness (he’s been here too often for that at this point); it’s not the comfortable warmth of familiarity, the playful and carefree quality that settled after Kyungsoo got to know the prince better. No. It’s something else, something simmering, something crackling in the heat of the apartment, something that makes the blood rush to Kyungsoo’s cheeks every time the prince looks at him. He swallows hard and sips his makgeolli, avoiding the prince’s dark eyes.

 

Ahem. Let’s start from the beginning. You should know how Kyungsoo got here.

 

It was never in Kyungsoo’s life plans to become a fansite master. He wanted to be a photographer. Eight months ago, he graduated with his Bachelors in photography with a fancy new camera (a gift from his parents) and two tickets to meet the princes of Korea (a gift from Baekhyun, who somehow got his hands on them).

That fanmeet, of course, changed the course of Kyungsoo’s life.

They spent the two weeks leading up to it in a frenzy of clothes shopping (at Baekhyun’s insistence; they “needed” clothes that were both cute and sexy, and apparently nothing in either of their closets cut it), trying out new makeup (because Kyungsoo insisted they couldn’t go barefaced to meet the princes; to do otherwise was a complete embarrassment), and going through lenses to see which he wanted to use. Baekhyun nearly strangled him when he said he wasn’t going to take his camera; truth was, Kyungsoo wasn’t all that excited about meeting them. Baekhyun was the fanboy who collected all the magazines they had photoshoots in, any merch they released (Kyungsoo had to admit the animal mascot stickers were cute); he was the one who cared. Kyungsoo was going because he didn’t have other plans, and because he didn’t want to rain on Baekhyun’s parade.

At last the day came, sunny and blissfully cool for a summer afternoon. Baekhyun was a nervous wreck, chattering incessantly on the way to the venue, shifting, fidgeting, fixing Kyungsoo’s shirt, fixing his own shirt; Kyungsoo finally had to grip him by the shoulders and hiss at him to stop. Baekhyun flashed him a sheepish grin and quieted. But only for one stop. As soon as the train pulled out of the Euljiro 3-ga stop, Baekhyun let the words spill from his lips; in the two stops it took to get to Anguk, Baekhyun had explained the life stories of all three princes (particularly the oldest prince, Chanyeol), their quirks, why each one had an animal (a dog for Chanyeol, a bear for Jongin, a chick for Sehun), their heights (Baekhyun was particularly excited about this), their hobbies, their favorite foods, and their favorite songs. Kyungsoo’s brain was near bursting by the time the doors opened, but Baekhyun showed no signs of slowing down. In fact, the closer they got to Changdeokgung, the more Baekhyun talked.

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo hissed, adjusting the strap of his camera bag.

“What?”

Kyungsoo only gave him a grumpy stare. Baekhyun blinked, then his eyes widened as it dawned on him.

“You _know_ I talk a lot when I’m nervous,” he whined, stomping as he passed the gate.

“I wish you’d do something else,” Kyungsoo grumbled.

“Be thankful I don’t get gassy,” Baekhyun said with a sniff.

Kyungsoo didn’t have time to snap at him; the palace guards stopped them, requested tickets and identification, then searched them (Kyungsoo should’ve known security would be tight, but it still jangled his nerves when they went through his camera bag). When that was done, the guards let them in. 

“Just how exclusive is this fanmeet?” Kyungsoo whispered, eyes darting at the girls that trickled in behind them. A crowd was forming at the entrance of palace, but only a few people were inside. It dawned on him that the palace had been closed to the public exclusively for this and he gulped, suddenly understanding Baekhyun’s frenzy of preparation. Kyungsoo glanced behind him, eyes widening at the sight of the girls with banners and fans.

“Only fifty tickets,” Baekhyun replied, gripping Kyungsoo’s arm. “I can’t believe this is actually _happening,_ ” he squealed, his nails digging into Kyungsoo’s skin.

“ _Ow._ ”

Kyungsoo pried Baekhyun’s fingers off with a scowl, teeth bared in a growl.

“ _Sorry_ , oh fuck please don’t hit me,” Baekhyun flinched at the fire in Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“Calm down, stupid,” Kyungsoo hissed, rubbing at the marks on his arm.

They had to walk for a bit, but there was security everywhere, pointing them in the right direction. At last they reached the right building, a hall that had been used for the king’s private meetings before the palace became a museum.

“Shoes,” said the palace attendant at the entrance, scratching his belly as he waited for them to slip off their sneakers.

“Tickets,” said the security guard, hand extended.

He looked at the tickets, then at them, his lips pursed, and handed the tickets back while he shook his head.

“Go in.”

“What’s he shaking his head for, eh?” Baekhyun hissed, craning his neck to get a better look at the guard.

“Relax, Baekhyun. Let’s just go inside,” said Kyungsoo, pulling him in.

The first row of seats (the seats were cushions, to fit the decor of the palace) was already filled, girls whispering and giggling as they waited, but Baekhyun led Kyungsoo to a pair of cushions in the middle of the second row, grinning when they sat. The girls in front of them were short enough to give them an unobstructed view of the princes. The table and cushions for the princes were on a dais, which helped the people in the back see.

They waited for half an hour; in that time, the rest of the room filled up, excited titters and giggles filling the silence. At last, a handsome man walked in, about Kyungsoo’s height, immaculately dressed and glowing.

“Oh, that’s Junmyeon, he’s their manager,” Baekhyun whispered. “And we’re fairly certain he and Prince Sehun are a thing,” he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Kyungsoo only shook his head, looking at Junmyeon, who was suppressing a smile at the awed silence of the girls at his presence.

(Junmyeon introduce the princes, blah blah)

The princes filed in, youngest to oldest. Sehun first, tall and pale and looking almost bored as he strode to his cushion in front of the low table. He folded his legs under him rather clumsily, huffed when he didn’t fit, then stretched his legs under the table, half smiling when his feet poked out the other side. Giggles rippled across the room, followed by the click of camera shutters.

Then came Jongin, bronzed and elegant, the black of his shirt exposing the glow of his chest as he made his way to his seat. Kyungsoo could only stare, entranced by the fluidity of Jongin’s movements, the fullness of his lips, the glint of his dark eyes (he remembered, vaguely, Baekhyun mentioning the prince liked to dance). Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Kyungsoo’s lips parted in shock. He felt like melting under the prince’s gaze, heat blooming in his eyes when the prince smiled smugly and sat down.

“Fuck, he’s so much hotter in person,” Baekhyun whispered.

Then he realized Kyungsoo was still entranced, staring at the lock of hair that graced Jongin’s forehead. And he laughed. Kyungsoo shook himself out of his reverie, scowling at Baekhyun before picking up his camera to join the flurry of clicks of the cameras. It was almost ridiculous, how many pictures Kyungsoo was taking. He had the urge to document every detail of Jongin; the plump pout of his lips, his cute round nose, the sharpness of his jaw, the slim gracefulness of his fingers, the triangle of the golden skin of his chest, framed by the black silk of his shirt. So engrossed was he in this that he missed Prince Chanyeol’s entrance, though he was vaguely aware of Baekhyun’s gasp and the tug on shirt.

“Kyungsoo, oh my god, dude.”

Kyungsoo put down his camera, blushing when he realized how many pictures he’d taken of Jongin in the few seconds since the prince had walked in. He glanced at Prince Chanyeol, who tried to look poised, but it was obvious he was only putting on airs.

“They’re so hot, I can’t believe we’re actually sitting in front of them,” Baekhyun continued, babbling until Junmyeon picked up a microphone.

Kyungsoo doesn’t actually remember much of what comes next. He’s too entranced by Jongin, his cute smiles, and winks (yes, he _winked_ at Kyungsoo) to hear what Junmyeon says. He’s sure some word games were played, something about poems and silly riddles (he vaguely remember Chanyeol’s protests at something Jongin said), but all he does is photograph Jongin; he chronicles every inch of him, trying not to blush when Jongin looks his way.

But after a while, Junmyeon made an announcement and there was a shuffle in the audience. At last, they were going to get their stuff signed. Kyungsoo clutched the magazine too tightly, cursing when he creased it (Baekhyun, bless his soul, had gotten Kyungsoo a magazine with a photoshoot of the three princes so he had something to be signed). He walked up to Chanyeol first, wordlessly putting down the magazine. The prince grinned at Kyungsoo’s bashfulness, uncapping the marker as he watched Kyungsoo glance at Jongin.

“Alright, alright, I’ll sign quickly so you can take your time with him,” Chanyeol joked, flipping through the magazine until he found a picture of himself.

“O-oh. Oh no, sorry, oh my god. Take as much time as you’d like, I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo sputtered.

He knew he wasn’t making much sense, but he was too flustered to say much else. Chanyeol only chuckled, scribbling something onto the magazine and drawing a mustache on a picture of Sehun. Kyungsoo, who is trying to sneak glances at Jongin, doesn’t notice.

“Here you go,” Chanyeol chirped, handing him the magazine.

Kyungsoo bowed, murmuring a thanks, and moved to Jongin, suddenly thankful he didn’t sweat when he was nervous.

“H-hi,” Kyungsoo squeaked, blushing when Jongin smiled.

“I haven’t seen you before,” said Jongin.

Kyungsoo froze, swallowing hard.

“I-I- how did you know?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t forget a cute face like yours,” he said.

Kyungsoo felt like fainting and screaming at the same time, but he settled for putting the magazine down with trembling hands before he crushed it further.

“Th-thank you,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

Jongin flashed him a brilliant smile; Kyungsoo’s heart beat wildly, ignoring Kyungsoo’s silent screams at it to calm down. He was sure it would jump out of his throat and throw itself at Jongin, but that didn’t happen. He _was_ sure, however, that the prince could hear how loud the beating of his heart was, but the prince flipped through the magazine, giggling when he saw what Chanyeol had done to Sehun’s picture.

“What’s your name?” the prince asked.

Kyungsoo was too busy staring at the pout of Jongin’s lips to notice he was asked something, blushing when the prince looked up at him.

“I- what?”

“Your name?” Jongin repeated, giggling.

Kyungsoo’s ears burned.

“Fuck, sorry. Wait, oh my god, _sorry_ ,” Kyungsoo clapped a hand over his mouth.

Really, why couldn’t the earth swallow him now? Why couldn’t a monsoon rain wash him out into Cheonggyecheon? Jongin laughed, doodling a bear next to his picture.

“To the cute baby boy with the peachy cheeks,” said Jongin, scribbling under the bear doodle.

Kyungsoo squeaked a thank you, gingerly taking the magazine from Jongin’s hands.

And the rest, well. The rest was history. Kyungsoo posted the pictures of Jongin and got more likes than he thought possible (some of those likes even cascaded onto his other photography projects). Hundreds of followers, several requests to get the pictures as prints, popularity he’d never dreamed of. Another fanmeet, another avalanche of love and praise from fans of the prince. It was Baekhyun who suggested he set up a fansite (bless his soul, sometimes he actually had the best ideas), and soon after Kyungsoo got a message from Junmyeon himself. Tickets to fanmeets and fansigns, activities the princes did, radio shows and reality shows; it didn’t take long, from that moment, to be invited by the princes’ proper. These Kyungsoo kept private; it felt wrong to betray their trust like that. And after a few dinners with the brothers, in which Kyungsoo was a stuttering, trembling, nervous mess, he grew accustomed to them.

Which then morphed into time alone with Jongin. Coffee dates, dinners, secret lunches. They’d gone to photography galleries, dance shows, and movies. They marathoned shows on Netflix, huddled under the plush comforter with nachos. They’d even gone to Jeju together, despite Kyungsoo’s hesitations (Baekhyun told him if he said no he would be the “stupidest bitch on this planet”). His fansite grew, and one day, a few months after he first set it up, he saw the comments. Harmless, in theory, but they made him blush. The fangirls had theories, little suspicions about “the cute fansite master” (he also regretted calling himself Honey Bear’s Peaches; he sounded far too infatuated, which he absolutely was _not_ ) and the hot middle prince. Some of the fangirls had even taken to photographing Kyungsoo, which sent him into a screaming frenzy when Baekhyun told him. Yet he couldn’t say no to the prince. They still ate dinner together, at least once a week, still huddled on Jongin’s sofa to watch movies, still tried new recipes together (well, Kyungsoo cooked and baked while Jongin watched and got in the way, but Kyungsoo didn’t reprimand him the way he reprimanded Baekhyun).

 

 

So he’s at Prince Jongin’s apartment, self-conscious and just a little shy. Jongin rests his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, which makes Kyungsoo jump, murmuring an apology when Jongin pouts at him.

“You’re kinda wound up today,” says Jongin, twining their fingers today.

Kyungsoo’s heart somersaults; the prince is too sweet, sometimes, and it pokes holes in Kyungsoo’s confidence (the confidence that he isn’t falling for the prince, that is).

“I’m fine, just thinking about the next camera lens I want to buy,” Kyungsoo murmurs.

“A camera lens has you this stressed?” Jongin asks, sitting up to give Kyungsoo an incredulous look.

“Uh…yeah?” Kyungsoo knows his smile is less than convincing, and the prince rolls his eyes.

“What is it really?” Jongin asks.

The prince curls up on Kyungsoo again, cheek smushed against Kyungsoo’s shoulder, and Kyungsoo leans into the warmth.

“Nothing that matters,” he insists.

“Yeah, and I’m a bear in human form,” Jongin says with a snort.

Kyungsoo gives him a mischievous smile.

“Technically-”

“Don’t say it! That was a stupid comparison, I know,” Jongin huffs, stretching his legs and draping them on Kyungsoo’s lap. “Anyway, you’re just deflecting.” He pokes Kyungsoo’s cheek.

Kyungsoo tries to give him an annoyed glare, but the prince’s hair is gently tousled, his warm eyes glittering in the low light of the living room, and Kyungsoo’s conviction fails. He has to resist the urge to take a picture, to document the softness in Jongin’s eyes, the tantalizing fullness of Jongin’s lips; he settles for a half-hearted frown, sticking his tongue out at the prince.

Jongin returns the gesture, giggling when Kyungsoo’s facade breaks and a smile forms.

“You’re insufferable,” Kyungsoo grumbles.

Jongin scoots closer, until his nose is pressed against Kyungsoo’s cheek.

“Is that why you run a fansite dedicated to me, my little peach?” Jongin purrs.

Kyungsoo squawks and shoves the prince, blushing when Jongin tumbles back, but Jongin is laughing, eyes crinkled.

“Annoying,” Kyungsoo mutters.

“Am I still annoying if I do this?” Jongin asks, sidling close to Kyungsoo again.

Kyungsoo is ready to grumble at him again, but the prince cups his cheeks, a sweet smile on his lips as he leans in close.

“J-Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks breathily, but Jongin doesn’t answer him.

Instead the prince closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together. Kyungsoo freezes, then melts, a puddle held together only by Jongin’s hands. The kiss is brief, but to Kyungsoo it feels like an eternity, his cheeks flushed when the prince pulls away.

“D-definitely,” Kyungsoo stutters.

“Definitely?”

“Definitely still annoying,” says Kyungsoo.

Jongin laughs, his ears red, but he boops Kyungsoo’s nose.

“I guess I have no choice but to annoy you in the best way possible,” he says.

“What way is that?”

“By being your boyfriend,” Jongin says, trying to be smooth and wiggling his eyebrows, but he breaks down into giggles.

Kyungsoo blushes, stunned into silence. They stare at each other, a moment of shy silence, until Kyungsoo nods.

“I think I’d like that,” he whispers.

Jongin beams at him, eyes bright.

“Good. I hereby proclaim you the peach to my bear,” Jongin says, puffing out his chest.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, giggling.

“Alright, settle down.”

Jongin pouts.

“Only if you give me another kiss.”

Kyungsoo smiles.

“Gladly."


End file.
